


Haircuts

by HDLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, clan of four, dad!din, soft!Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: When you come home from the market you find your little aliit having some bonding time in the bathroom.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & OC, Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 91





	Haircuts

As you finished up with the shopkeeper you could hear the usual chatter of the younger Mandos as they dispersed from the training yard. They had stayed longer today for some extra hands-on training with the alor’ad while the littler ones had already gone home.

The days quickly were becoming shorter as fall settled over the little village. The sun was already starting to set, coloring the sky in a wash of blue fading into gold. Leaves were also starting to change color as the evenings grew cooler, the need for sweaters and cardigans more apparent. That, and also how much more snuggly you could convince your riduur to get in with you under thicker blankets.

Shifting the basket on your arm, you went out and walked back to your yaim. Enjoying the crisp scents in the air, the local farmers started to bring in the harvest of the late fruits and the wheat that had turned golden in the fields. 

You passed by the familiar-looking homes, all plain and lime-washed in different shades of cream, white, and ocher. Some of the doors were painted in clan colors and patterns rather than surnames while others, like your own, remained plain and unassuming. Your neighbors were from various Mandalorian clans and tribes had their ways of maintaining a balance of community and privacy. 

One of those ways was having homes that were set up with solid outer walls that surrounded the inner rooms and walled-in courtyards and garden areas that afforded even the more strict followers of the creed spaces to be unhelmeted with their aliit.

Entering your home you could immediately hear giggles emanating from further inside. 

Setting the basket on the counter, you quickly put the cold-sensitive items away in the conservator. Blue milk, the soft cheese, and the fresh meat from the farm all got stored away, while the jogan fruits got put into the wooden bowl on the counter. You then took a quick peek at the dough you’d left to proof earlier in a warm spot and were pleased with its progress. It would be ready to knead and shape soon before baking into loaves, but you could come back to do that.

Right now you wanted to check in on the giggles along with the deep voice you knew to be Din.

“Gar gemas got bid munit, ner ad’ika. Could almost have braided it.” Din said in a mix of Mando’a and Basic. “Bic cuyir guuror gar ba'buir’s gemas.”

There was another round of giggles at the words as you heard a bit of toddler babble you couldn’t make out clearly. The source of the words was easy enough to locate and you leaned against the doorframe leading into the bathroom.

Din had commandeered a chair from the kitchen and little Valen was sat on the booster seat. His little bare feet, which looked rather dirty — you made a mental note that issue would have to be addressed later with a thorough bath — dangled in the air, kicking slightly.

Your riduur had wrapped a soft towel around your youngest’s neck and shoulders, tucking the ends into the front of Valen’s shirt to keep it secure. Your two-year-old’s hair was heavily dampened until the curls, which he had gotten from his father, were easier to handle.

Scissors flashed and snipped, Din using his fingers both as a comb and a safety guard as he got your baby’s hair back in order. Valen’s dark brown locks had gotten to the overly fluffy stage, just like how Din’s hair would get. The curls had grown a lot from his first hair cut just a few months ago, until and your ad’ika was constantly pushing his hair up or to the side so it was out of his eyes. So your riduur had taken to upon himself to remedy the situation.

You couldn’t help but grin at the domestic sight. 

Din had his reading glasses on — the dark frames only highlighting his eyes — was in a pair of comfy sweatpants, a loose-knit shirt tucked in at the front, highlighting the slightly soft belly he had. Your two little ones were both with him. Briika currently sat on top of Din’s bare foot, his little green arms wrapping around Din’s leg and giggling as his makeshift ride took him around the bathroom in circles around the chair Valen was on.

“Bu!” Briika squeaked when he saw you as he clung to Din’s leg. Large green ears perking up as his large brown eyes grinned up at you.

Din and Valen both looked up and grinned, three dimples on display between the pair of them. It still bowled you over how much Valen looked like your riduur, it made sense of course since he was Valen’s father, but to see the evidence every day? Valen’s eyes the same shade of rich brown, skin almost the same shade of golden brown, and the hair? Your baby was almost a carbon copy of his father.

You knelt down to pick up Briika after he hopped off Din’s floor, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you picked him up. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Mama! All gone!” Valen said proudly with a grin, a bit of cut hair held up tightly in his chubby fist to show you.

Thankfully, for your riduur’s health, Din had _not_ cut off _all_ of your son’s hair. You would have probably cried if that had happened.

“It is! Your daddy did a good job with your hair.”

Din grinned at the compliment, setting the scissors on the counter and started to brush any stray hairs off of Valen.

Ni, bu! Ni!” Briika begged as Din swooped Valen up with a shriek of laugher from the two-year-old.

“You want me?” Din asked, holding onto Valen, who was still giggling, in one arm.

“No! Ni gay-ma!” Briika said, gesturing wildly to his head with a clawed hand.

It took a moment before the toddler talk clicked, “You want a hair cut too, verd’ika?” you asked.

“Lek!” He grinned widely, pleased at being understood.

Din and you had to smother a laugh, Briika’s little green head had some wispy hairs but they hardly required a haircut.

“Switch with you?” Din asked with a wink sent your way.

You nodded and passed Briika over to your riduur before Valen was placed in your waiting arms.

Valen’s soft arms and legs latched onto you, his face immediately seeking out the crook of your neck. You shifted his weight to sit him more firmly on your hip, so you could brush a hand over his now shorter and already drying curls. Your riduur had left it a little longer the top of his head while the sides were a bit closer cut, so much lighter but still plenty of length left to keep your baby’s waves and curls.

“Hi, honey, did you have a good time with Daddy and Briika?”

Your sometimes quiet boy nodded his head, smiling up at you. He was just happy to be held for the moment.

“That’s good,” you said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Valen giggled and kissed you back on your cheek, it was slightly damp but perfect all the same, his hand fisted tight into the soft knit fabric of your cardigan.

Briika sat as still as he could on the seat as Din put a large hand onto his head and carefully made a few snips of the scissors. Din barely took anything off at all with how little hair he had.

“There we go,” Din said as he took off the towel he had wrapped around Briika, having made sure to give him the full haircut experience. Both kids admired their haircuts in the bathroom mirror for about thirty seconds before they were ready to be doing something else.

Leaving Din to sweep up the shorn hair with his two little helpers, you went back to get the bread dough sorted out and get dinner started. It never got old to you how they both followed him around like baby ducklings, always wanting to “help out”. Even if they often got in the way, making a chore take twice as long, but he always took it in stride.

You watched in amusement as Din got your little ones settled into the cozy living area. A colorful stacking toy needing put together, a fun way of helping develop finer motor skills.

“Want me to help?” Din asked.

“No, I do! Bri do,” Valen said emphatically with a concentrated frown aimed at the blocks.

Once he was sure they were good, understanding they wanted to show off how they could stack the blocks all on their own, Din got up and sent you a wink as he came into the kitchen.

He pulled you in, hands searching and sliding under your cardigan to pull you in close. 

Humming in pleasure at the warmth of his embrace you leaned into him as you posed a question after a moment.

“Sooo,” you drawled as you carefully moved his glasses from his nose, nestling the frames into the wavy of hair on his head. “Think we can handle another one?”

Din’s brow quirked, his mouth curling in apparent understanding even as he proceeded to play dumb, “Another what?”

“Another ad,” you supplied, smoothing a hand over the expanse of his chest. 

The firm muscles, covered by the waffle-weave of his shirt, shift under your hands. He may be in his early forties, but his profession — and probably also running after you and two kids — kept your riduur well away from a sedentary lifestyle.

You felt the please rumble in his chest before his lips were swooping in and kissing you until you were clinging to him and breathless. Your eager riduur’s nose pressing into your cheek as you felt his hands pull you in even closer. He backed himself up until he could lean back against the counter. Your body slotting against his, molding together perfectly with contented sighs.

He pulled away only after pressing more kisses all over your face. Over your nose, cheeks, and chin until you were laughing at the tickle of his patchy five-o-clock shadow. His one hand settling heavily on the swell of your ass.

“I’m going to take that is a yes?” you teased, leaning further into his chest. Your arms snuck under his, coming around his sides so you could slowly rub along the planes of his back.

Dark brown eyes twinkled at you, the answer already written there.

“Elek, yes.” 

He looked like he was about to say more when you both jumped at Briika and Valen shrieking, a huge clattering sound coming from the living area.

Both your heads whipped around to look and the tension that had come into your bodies immediately fled when you saw what was going on. The two littles had, apparently, gotten tired of stacking the blocks and thought it would be much more fun to knock everything over if the screaming laughter was any indicator.

Din pressed another kiss to your forehead before asking wryly, “Still sure you want to have another?”

You nestled your head into the crook of his neck before answering, both of you watching the children stacking the blocks back up so they could push them over again.

“With you? Definitely.”

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Alor’ad - captain  
> Buir(e) - parent(s)  
> Ad - child / son / daughter  
> Kute - bodysuit worn under armor  
> Yaim - home  
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> Ad’ika - little one / son / daughter  
> Gar gemas got bid munit, ner ad’ika - your hair got so long, my little one  
> Bic cuyir guuror gar ba'buir's gemas, ner buir - It is like your grandfather's hair, my father  
> Ni, bu! Ni! - Me da! Me!  
> Riduur - spouse  
> Elek - yes
> 
> Conservator - Star Wars version of a fridge


End file.
